Neville Longbottom and the Seer of Prophecy
by EdgeyvonKarma
Summary: Ten years ago, the Dark Lord Voldemort murdered Frank and Alice Longbottom. When he tried to kill their son, Neville, however, the curse rebounded and he disappeared, thought by many to be dead. Now, Neville is attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, learning to adjust to his fame, and trying to meet everyone's high expectation of him. AU, obviously.
1. Chapter 1: The Joy Buzzer Incident

The smoke billowed out of the Hogwarts Express. Platform Nine and Three Quarters was a center of activity. Owls hooted from their cages, cats meowed loudly, and students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry chatted animatedly with their families. The first day of term had arrived, and the excitement that a new term at Hogwarts brings shone on every student's face.

Neville Longbottom stepped through the magical barrier that separates the Hogwarts Express from the Muggle world, pushing a trolley that carried a large trunk. An eleven-year-old boy about to start his first year at Hogwarts, Neville was pretty average looking. He was not particularly tall or short, and he was a bit on the heavy side. His eyes were hazel, and his black hair was short, with some bangs covering his forehead. The bangs were not enough, however, to hide Neville's most striking feature: a scar shaped like a lightning bolt.

Neville saw the train loom over him and gulped. It wasn't enough that this was his first day at Hogwarts. No, that he could probably handle. But everyone at the school had already heard about him, everyone will be expecting great things of him, all because of something that happened when he was only one year old. The Dark Lord had killed his parents as part of his mad bid for power, and then tried to kill Neville. But for some strange reason, the curse failed to kill Neville and rebounded on the Dark Lord, rendering him powerless and maybe even killing him, though Gran thought otherwise.

"Keep moving, Neville,"a stern voice said behind him. "You're blocking the entrance."

Neville jumped and hastened to obey. His grandmother followed him onto the platform. Gran was an imposing woman, with sharp features and beady gray eyes. She wore a green coat and a stuffed vulture on her head. She had a scarf made from a fox and carried a large red handbag. Neville tried to explain to her that while her clothes did come from the Muggle world, the way she wore them was not part of the normal Muggle style, and that she was bound to attract attention. Gran had insisted, however, and Neville was not going to start an argument on the day of his departure.

"Have you got everything?"Gran asked. Neville turned to look at her. She was trying to look expressionless and stern, but he could see the sorrow in her eyes. She was going to miss him, and he her.

"Yes, Gran,"Neville replied.

"Where's your wand?"she pressed.

"Right here,"he said, pulling his wand out of his back pocket. Gran nodded.

"And your toad?"she asked. Neville reached into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, but didn't pull his hand out. His eyes bulged.

"Gran, he's gone!"he said, nervously.

"Again, Neville?"she asked, rolling her eyes. Neville's toad Trevor frequently disappeared. Gran always said it was because Neville was being irresponsible, but Neville had taken pains in the past to keep Trevor with him, only to have Trevor escape when Neville was asleep.

"He was here when I crossed the barrier,"Neville insisted. "He must have hopped out of my pocket when I was staring at the train!"

"And you didn't notice? Honestly, Neville, how can you expect to handle your homework when you can't even keep track of your pet toad?"

Neville bit his lip and looked down. Gran softened and put her hands on his shoulders. "Well, never mind,"she said warmly, "I'm sure he'll turn up. He always seems to know where you are."

"I guess so,"Neville said, still looking at his feet.

Gran grabbed Neville's chin and pulled up his head. "Listen to me, Neville,"she said, still in that warm and loving voice that he rarely heard from her. "You're going to be fine. You're a bright young man, and you have your father's blood. Just believe in yourself, okay?"

"O-okay,"Neville said, his eyes starting to get misty.

Gran's hands left his shoulders. "None of that, Neville,"she said, her voice turning hard, but her smile never leaving her face. "You can't cry today. You don't want to leave a bad first impression, do you?'

Neville shook his head, blinked once, and steeled himself. He gave Gran a hug goodbye and wheeled the trolley aboard the train. He eventually found an empty compartment at the rear end of the train, and tried to lift the heavy trunk into the basket above the seat. He dropped it twice, and gave a particularly loud yelp the second time, as it landed on his foot.

"Need a hand, buddy?"a voice said. Neville turned and looked. Leaning against the open door to the compartment was a boy around eleven or twelve with messy jet-black hair and glasses over his green eyes. He was slightly shorter than Neville, but very fit. It almost looked like he had no body fat at all. He had a smirk on his face. Not a condescending smirk, Neville noticed, but a cocky one. He was daring Neville to say yes, he might take accepting his help as a sign of weakness.

_Well, I guess I'm weak,_ Neville thought. "Yes, please,"he said, panting. The boy grinned wider and walked over. Working together, the two boys heaved the trunk into the basket. "Thank you,"Neville said.

"Don't thank me yet,"the boy said. "Every other compartment is full. You don't mind if I ride over with you, right?" Neville shook his head. "Great. So, give me a hand with my trunk, then."

Neville agreed and the two boys lifted the trunk into the basket across from Neville's seat. The boy ruffled his hair, making it even messier, as he turned to Neville. "Thanks, man,"he said. "My name's Harry. Harry Potter." He held out his hand. Neville took it.

Neville's entire body shook. A strange force shot through his hand and rocketed up and down his spine. His hair started to stand up. Neville let out a small shout and pulled his hand away. Harry laughed and held up his hand for Neville to see that he was holding a small silver circle between his middle and ring fingers.

"It's a Muggle toy called a Joy Buzzer,"Harry explained, still laughing. "It's easy to hide and sends a small shock through your body. It's like a miniature lightning strike. My godfather gave it to me before I left. He said that most wizards don't know about shocks and I thought it'd be fun to give them a little scare."

"I didn't find it any fun,"Neville mumbled angrily, rubbing his wrist. Such a strange sensation. "You might have killed me."

Harry laughed, and slapped Neville on the back playfully. "Hey, it isn't like that!"he chuckled. "It's just a small enough shock to surprise you. If it were dangerous, I wouldn't be using it on people." Neville didn't answer. "Hey, mate, I'm sorry,"he said, laughter finally leaving his voice. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just thought it was a good joke."

"No,"Neville said, smiling. "It didn't hurt. I just didn't know what to expect, and you compared it to lightning, and I overreacted."

"Friends?"Harry asked, holding out his hand again. Neville didn't take it this time, and shot him a glare. Harry chuckled and took the Joy Buzzer off his hand and stuck it in his pocket. "You can't blame me for trying, Neville."

"I guess not,"Neville shrugged, slumping into his seat. "Wait!"he said loudly, sitting up straight. "I never told you my name!"

Harry sat down across from Neville. "How many other people have lightning-shaped scars on their foreheads?"he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Neville sighed. He really should not have been surprised. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"he asked.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Didn't really seem important. I was too busy trying to keep the Joy Buzzer hidden until the right moment."

Neville gave Harry a bewildered look. "How is that your reaction? Not that I'm complaining or anything, but I thought you'd be more excited to meet a famous person."

"I'm used to famous people."Harry said, leaning back. "My dad's a chaser on the Chudley Cannons, and my godfather's Sirius Black."

Neville gasped. "The Auror? Moody's second in command?"

"That's right,"Harry said, beaming proudly. "Funny, most people react more to my dad being James Potter than my godfather being Sirius Black."

"YOUR DAD IS JAMES POTTER? HE'S MY FAVORITE PLAYER!"a boy shouted from the doorway. Neville and Harry turned. Neither of them had noticed the long, lanky red-haired boy open the door, about to ask them if they had room in their compartment. His face was slightly dirty and covered in freckles, and his clothes were too big for him, obviously hand-me-downs. His mouth hung open with astonishment.

Harry laughed. "Yep. Don't wet yourself just yet though, mate." Harry pointed at Neville. "He's Neville Longbottom."

The red-haired boy strode quickly toward Neville, his trunk sitting forgotten in the doorway. He leaned in close and stared at Neville's forehead intently for several seconds, making Neville feel quite uncomfortable. He coughed, and said, "So, what's your name?"

The boy blinked, and stood back up (Neville quietly thanked God for the return of his personal space). "Ron Weasley,"he said holding out his hand. Neville shook it. "And I'm not famous like you two seem to be."he added softly, barely above a whisper.

"Yes, well,"Harry said, chuckling. "I'm sure if you stick with us, we'll rub off on you. My name's Harry." Harry held out his hand.

Before Neville could stop him, Ron took Harry's hand. He jumped backward and started swearing and shaking his hand wildly. Harry roared with laughter and Neville started chuckling in spite of himself. He had to admit that it was actually pretty funny to see an unsuspecting victim's reaction to being shocked.

"What on earth is all this noise?"a disapproving voice asked as a girl poked her head into the compartment. Her brown hair was quite bushy and Neville noticed that she had rather large front teeth. She was already wearing her Hogwarts robes.

"This son of a bitch just attacked me!"Ron shouted, reaching to his back pocket for his wand. "Attacked you?"the girl asked, her eyes widening. She looked at Harry, who was rolling in his seat, then to Neville, who was biting his lip and trying not to laugh. "He doesn't look particularly hostile,"she said, narrowing her eyes. "What exactly did he do?"

"He grabbed my hand and shocked me somehow!"Ron said, pointing his wand at Harry. Neville noticed the back of his neck started to turn pink. "It was like lightning!"

"Lightning?"she asked, folding her arms thoughtfully. "Did he, perhaps, offer to shake your hand?"

"Yeah,"Ron growled, not looking at her or lowering his wand. "How did you know that?"

The girl sighed. "I thought so. He didn't attack you."

"What?"Ron asked, his wand hand falling to his side as he turned to face her.

"You must have no Muggle relatives. Muggles have different toys for pulling pranks, and this particular toy is called a Joy Buzzer. By applying pressure to the hapless victim's skin, it sends a harmless electrical shock through their body. It's meant to startle, not injure. Your over the top reaction, while understandable due to your lack of experience with the Muggle world, has done nothing but gratify your tormentor and encourage him to continue pulling his pranks. Unfortunately for him, he must not have read _Hogwarts, a History_ because otherwise he knew that all Muggle devices that run on electricity, including his Joy Buzzer, fail to operate properly on Hogwarts grounds." She said all of this very quickly. Neville and Ron gaped at her. How could she talk that much without taking a breath. Harry smirked.

"No worries,"he said. "It's not like the Joy Buzzer's the only prank I know."

"I'm sure you have plenty of amazing Muggle pranks to pull,"the girl said, shaking her head. "What will you dazzle us with next? Whoopee cushions? Squirting flowers?"

"That's a secret,"he said, smiling mischievously. "But I promise not to prank anyone else when you're not around to see them react. Your completely serious attitude made the whole thing ten times funnier."

The girl looked at Harry disapprovingly. Ron and Neville started laughing, though. "I see what you mean, mate,"Ron said. "She needs to loosen up."

"You all need to grow up!"she retorted, before she threw her hands into the air and stormed off. Ron shook his head, laughing, and sat down next to Harry.

"Whatever house she's in, I hope I'm not in it,"he said. "She takes everything way too seriously."

"This coming from the guy who threatened to start a duel over a children's toy?"Neville asked. Harry laughed and Ron threw his shoe at Neville. The three boys laughed and talked as the train sped toward Hogwarts. Ron told them all about his large family and how he felt overshadowed by his older brothers. Harry talked about being raised by a professional Quidditch player and a Hogwarts professor (his mother taught the Study of Ancient Runes). Neville mostly stayed quiet and tried to keep the conversation focused on Harry and Ron, but he couldn't hold them off forever.

"So, Neville,"Ron said, as they started changing into their Hogwarts robes, "what was it like?"

"What was what like?"Neville asked coyly. He was hoping to avoid this conversation.

"You know,"Harry insisted. "When Voldemort killed your mom and dad."

Neville and Ron flinched. "Why would you say You-Know-Who's name?"Neville whispered, glancing around.

"I dunno,"Harry said, ruffling his hair. "My dad says it. Sirius says it. I'm just used to it."

"Are you crazy?"Ron asked, looking both horrified and impressed.

"What's the big deal?"Harry asked, shrugging. "It's just a name. Anyway, answer the question, Neville. What was it like?"

Neville sighed. He knew he was going to have to talk about his parents eventually. "I was one when they died, guys,"he said. "I don't remember anything besides a flash of green light and a high pitched laugh. My grandmother told me that she thinks that, based on where they found the bodies, my dad tried to fight You-Know-Who first, forced only to use his fists because You-Know-Who caught him off guard. Then he dueled my mom for a while and supposedly tried to kill me, but she jumped in the way. I don't know what happened after that, just that I survived and he disappeared."

"Wait, so he let your mom live so he could kill you first?"Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why didn't he just kill her first?"

"Maybe he's just nuts, I don't know,"Neville shrugged. "I always thought it was because I was his real target, and that my parents were just in the way."

"But why would he want to kill you in the first place?"Ron asked. "You were just a baby."

"No idea,"Neville admitted. "But it's the only way that it makes sense. I'll probably ask Dumbledore if he has any ideas if I get the chance, but I'm not getting my hopes up."

Before Harry or Ron could reply, the train whistle blew as the train slowed to a stop. The three boys looked out the window to see that they had arrived at their destination. "Ladies and gentlemen,"a magically amplified voice said, heard in all the compartments, "we have arrived at our destination of Hogsmeade station. Please leave your luggage and pets aboard the train, as they will be transported separately.

This was it. They were about to begin their term at Hogwarts. Neville started to feel his stomach rumble, a combination of hunger and nerves. He looked at Harry and Ron to see how they were coping. Ron was pale, but his jaw was set. Harry simply looked excited, not a trace of fear on his face.

"Let's go,"he said, leading the way out of the compartment. Neville and Ron followed, and they left the train. As soon as they left the train, they heard a booming voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere!" The boys followed the voice to see that it belonged to a giant of a man, standing at over ten feet tall. He had long black hair and a beard to match, and his black eyes were warm and friendly. Several other first years, including the bossy girl from earlier, also gathered around the giant, and soon he stopped calling and looked at the crowd.

"All righ', issat everyone?"he asked. "Righ', well follow me, then, you lot." He turned around and marched away. Neville and the other first years had to jog to keep up with his massive stride as he led them through the streets of Hogsmeade. "Yeh'll get yer firs' look at Hogwarts soon."the giant called back to them. "Righ' around dat corner."

Sure enough, they turned a corner and saw a castle, sitting atop a hill across a vast lake. Three large towers sat atop the castle and lights were shining through the windows on the lower floors. The giant led them to a fleet of small boats sitting at the shore of the lake. "No more'n four ter a boat!"he said, taking up a whole boat by himself. Neville crowded into a boat with Harry and Ron, and, to Ron's dismay, they were joined by the bossy girl.

"All righ'!"the giant yelled, pointing a pink umbrella in front of him. "Forward!" The boats lurched forward, sailing toward the castle on their own, with no wind nor oars nor motor to propel them. Once they crossed the lake, the students were led to the front door of the castle, and the giant did a quick head count to make sure that everyone had survived the crossing.

"Good, dat seems ter be the lot of yeh,"he said, satisfied. He turned and faced the door. He raised his fist and knocked three times on the door.

**Author's Note: Wow, my first fanfic. I feel accomplished already, and I haven't even really started writing anything substantial yet. Harry was particularly difficult to write, as I imagine that a Harry raised by James Potter is different from a Harry raised by Vernon Dursley. And writing in Hagrid-speak is just plain difficult. Please please PLEASE leave reviews, I have no idea what I'm doing and I could really use the criticism. I know that I tend to use too much dialogue and that my descriptions need work, and if I notice one thing wrong, then there must be at least ten more problems with my writing that I don't know about.**

**Anyway, I'm rambling. Please, take the time to post a review, and I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter coming soon...probably...I'll try to update frequently, anyway.**


	2. Chapter 2: The Sorting Hat

The door opened almost immediately. It was opened by an older woman with light brown hair pulled back into a bun. Neville noticed several gray spots in her hair as she adjusted her glasses. There were several lines on her face, but her eyes were still sharp as she looked over the first years. Neville was distinctly reminded of Gran, and resolved then and there to avoid crossing this woman at all costs.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall,"the giant said jovially.

"Thank you, Hagrid,"she responded. "I will take them from here." Hagrid nodded, and she stepped aside to allow him into the castle. Professor McGonagall beckoned her finger, turned around, and followed Hagrid. Neville and the other first years followed her. They walked down a long entrance hall, and Neville saw Hagrid walking through a pair of double doors to the right. Neville briefly glimpsed five long tables through the doors, and the older students were sitting there.

"You will join your classmates for the feast shortly,"McGonagall said without turning around, "but for now, wait in here." She opened the door to a small empty classroom. The students filed inside.

"Now then,"she said, clasping her hands together. "Before the start of term feast begins you will all be sorted into one of four houses, each with its own history and share of great witches and wizards: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you are studying here at Hogwarts, your house will act as your family. You will live in your house dormitories and attend classes with your housemates. Over the course of the year, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will cost your house points. Whichever house has the most points at the end of term feast will win the House Cup, a great honor. Now, if you excuse me, I must prepare for the Sorting. Do not leave this room. I will return shortly."

With that, McGonagall turned around and left the room. As soon as the door closed, all the first years began nervously talking to each other. "How do you suppose we'll be sorted?"Harry asked. "Nobody would tell me about it."

"Some kind of test, I imagine,"Ron replied. "Fred was telling me about how he had to wrestle a troll for his Sorting once."

"But we don't even know how to use magic yet!"Neville interjected. "How are we supposed to survive that?"

"What's wrong, Longbottom?"a blond boy asked loudly, shoving Ron aside, knocking him over. He was shorter than Neville, but he had a cocky air about him that rivaled Harry. His piercing blue eyes viewed Neville with a strange mixture of amusement and contempt. Two much larger and stupider-looking boys flanked him as he walked toward Neville, stopping very close to him, and sneered. "Are you scared? Is this too much for the Boy Who Lived?"

All other conversations in the room ceased. Most of the first years were staring at Neville and the blond boy, shock on each of their faces. Neville fought the urge to groan. He was hoping to at least last a few days before everyone realizing that he was now attending Hogwarts. Now he somehow found himself in a confrontation with everyone's eyes on him. They wanted to see how he would react, how he would live up to the legend of the boy who defeated the Dark Lord.

"I never said anything about being s-scared,"Neville said, trying to keep his terror in check. "I was just explaining why it was unlikely that the Sorting would involve us fighting a troll."

"Besides,"Ron said, getting up off the floor, "who do you think you are, barging into a conversation that had nothing to do with you?"

The blond boy turned around and looked at Ron, sizing him up. "Someone of clearly a better class than you,"he responded. "I don't think I need to guess who you are. Red hair, hand-me-down clothes...you're obviously a Weasley. Father has told me all about Arthur Weasley. A fool whose obsession with Muggles leaves him destitute with a fat wife and more children than he can afford."

Ron's ears flushed, matching the color of his hair, and he charged toward the blond boy. The two bigger boys stepped in front of him and forced him down to the ground. Harry let out a yell of anger and ran to help Ron.

"I see you've met my friends Weasley,"the blond boy said, looking bored. "This is Crabbe and Goyle." He turned to face Neville. "And my name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.

"Listen, Longbottom, from what I've read in the papers, it is apparent that while you are a Pureblood, you haven't had much exposure to the wider wizarding world." Neville nodded. Gran didn't take him out very much, said she didn't like dealing with the crowds that always seemed to form. Neville really only played with Muggle children when growing up, before his magic began manifesting and he scared them all away when he was seven.

"Just as I thought,"Malfoy continued, unaware of Neville's reminiscence. "In that case, I'm not surprised that you didn't realize that some wizards are better than others." He turned around, and watched Harry and Ron wrestling Crabbe and Goyle. "You don't want to hang around with riffraff like Weasley and this other bloke. I can help you with that." He turned around and held out his hand. Neville felt everyone's eyes on him. How he reacted would set a tone for what kind of man the rest of the school saw him as. There was only one thing to do. He slapped Malfoy's hand aside.

"I don't think I'd ever want to associate with a bully like you,"he said firmly, giving Malfoy his best glare. _Don't think about what might happen if Crabbe and Goyle get you alone later, Neville,_he told himself. "And if I were you,"he continued aloud, "I would call off your friends. You wouldn't want McGonagall to come back now and see that."

Malfoy gritted his teeth angrily. "Enough,"he said softly. Crabbe and Goyle immediately backed off. Neville noticed that all four of the fighters had bruises on their faces, but Harry and Ron clearly took the brunt of the injuries.

"You will regret this, Longbottom,"Malfoy growled, staring into Neville's eyes, looking for weakness. Neville stared right back at him, willing his face remain stoic and determined, clenching his fists at his side, fighting the urge to both punch Malfoy in the face and quake in terror at such a threat. He had not even been in Hogwarts for an hour and he already made an enemy. Refusing Malfoy might have been the right thing to do, but making enemies was never high on Neville's priority list. It certainly didn't help that Malfoy seemed to have Crabbe and Goyle at his beck and call, though Malfoy was intimidating on his own, in a sort of passive, influential, manipulative way.

The door opened, and all the first years finally turned their attention away from the door. McGonagall had returned. "The Sorting is about to begin,"she said, surveying the room. Her eyes seemed to linger on Harry and Ron. "If you all would follow me. Single file please." She turned and led the first years out of the room and into the large room that Neville saw Hagrid enter earlier. This Great Hall had four long tables running parallel to each other and a fifth long table facing them at the far end of the room. The older students sat at each of the parallel tables, which each had a banner displaying a different animal (a lion, a badger, an eagle, and a serpent) hanging above it. The fifth table had several adults, including Hagrid, seated there, who Neville supposed must have been the teachers. The room was lit by hundreds of floating candles and there seemed to be no ceiling at all, but instead a starry sky. Neville heard the bossy girl whisper that she read that the ceiling was enchanted to reflect the sky outside.

McGonagall led the first years to the front of the staff table, and instructed them to form a horizontal line facing the other students. Directly in front of Neville sat a small stool on which sat an old ragged hat. Everyone in the Great Hall was staring at the hat, so Neville, certain that something was going to happen, watched the hat as well. The hat remained still for a few minutes, and then it stirred and spoke:

"I would like to offer my sincere apologies,"it said, "but I have been suffering from writer's block and was thus unable to compose a satisfactory song for this year's Sorting. I would not wish to make you suffer through a substandard song and instead decided to just get on with it, since you all really just care about the feast.

"For those of you who are unaware, I am the Sorting Hat. I look into each new student's brain and determine which house suits them best based on their personality. If you are brave and chivalrous, you may belong in Gryffindor. If you are intelligent and logical, you may belong in Ravenclaw. If you are hard-working and loyal, you may belong in Hufflepuff. If you are pragmatic and ambitious, you may belong in Slytherin. May the Sorting begin!"

The Great Hall was silent. Students looked to each other in confusion. A few of them were chuckling, while others looked concerned. Some of the students started applauding half-heartedly, as though they weren't sure how else to react. "Stop clapping!"the hat shouted. "I don't deserve it and you know it!" Harry snickered after hearing that.

McGonagall walked forward and faced the first years, seemingly unfazed by the hat's unorthodox speech. "When your name is called, you will sit on the stool and try on the Sorting Hat. When the hat announces your house, you will join your housemates at the corresponding table, which is where you will eat meals for the rest of your time here at Hogwarts. Abbot, Hannah!"

Neville's attention wandered as the Sorting took place. He glanced behind him and saw an old man's blue eyes twinkling back at him. He had long silver hair and an even longer beard to match. His nose was bent in a strange angle, as if it had been broken in the past and never healed the same way. He wore spectacles shaped like a half-moon and a thin smile. He caught Neville's eye and winked, then pointed in front of him. Neville nodded and faced forward. That must have been Albus Dumbledore, the famed headmaster of Hogwarts. He matched Gran's description perfectly. Neville remembered his decision to speak to Dumbledore about the circumstances surrounding his parents' deaths and wondered how he would arrange a meeting with the headmaster or where his office might be.

"Granger, Hermione!"McGonagall called. The bossy girl from earlier walked forward. So that was her name. Hermione put on the hat and sat on the stool. The hat fell over her eyes and she fidgeted nervously. A minute or two passed. It seemed to take longer with her than the other students so far. Finally it shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" and the students at the lion table applauded. Neville heard Ron groan as Hermione walked to the table, and smirked. Ron mentioned that he was expecting to end up in Gryffindor since his whole family had been sorted there so far already.

As the Sorting continued, Neville noticed that the hat took more time with some students than with others. Some, like Crabbe and Goyle, took only a few seconds to be sorted. Others, like Hermione, seemed to take longer, as if the hat wasn't sure where to put them. This scared Neville; what if the hat took longer with him? What if it never sorted Neville at all, found Neville unworthy of all four houses? Imagine Gran's reaction if her grandson, the Boy Who Lived, turned out to be so unremarkable that he didn't belong to any house! She'd disown him on the spot!

"Longbottom, Neville!"McGongall called out. The Great Hall, which had plenty of whispered conversations going on during the Sorting, was suddenly silent. Everyone stared as Neville walked forward. Then everyone started whispering fervently.

"Did she say Longbottom?"

"NEVILLE Longbottom?"

"I can't believe he's here!"

"Move over, I can't see!"

"How great would it be if he ended up in Hufflepuff?"

"Don't be thick, they'll put him in Gryffindor for sure, that's where all the heroes seem to end up."

Neville sat on the stool and put the hat on his head. Just like with Hermione, the hat fell over his eyes. Everything was dark. The whispering had stopped mid sentence, though Neville was sure people were still talking about him. The hat had just isolated him, taken him away to a quiet place to decide his fate without distraction. Neville silently thanked the hat for this courtesy.

"You are quite welcome,"a small voice said in his head. Neville flinched. He wasn't expecting that. "Yes, people usually are surprised to hear me,"the voice continued. "Now, let's see. Plenty of courage and loyalty, I see. Not particularly unintelligent either. And...that's interesting...you seem to prefer to solve conflicts diplomatically, avoiding harm to yourself and others close to you. If possible, you wish to make enemies your friends through the power of your words alone, and if not quite possible, you at least wish to make strong allies to help protect you when things go wrong."

_Yeah, I know, I'm a coward_, Neville thought angrily, _thanks for reminding me._

"I never said you were cowardly,"the voice responded. It sounded annoyed. "Didn't I just say you had courage. Standing up to Malfoy like that isn't something a coward does. No, I meant to say that you look at life in a very pragmatic sense. You try to find the best way to proceed toward your intended goal, and you take the appropriate measures to make that possible. In the case of Malfoy, you knew that challenging him to a fight would be foolhardy and dangerous, as your friends learned the hard way, but that having an audience meant that you couldn't back down. Choosing to confront Malfoy because he was in the wrong, and then choosing to remind Malfoy of Professor McGonagall's imminent return and defusing the situation without even throwing a punch or casting a spell was both cunning and courageous, Longbottom."

_T-thank you,_ Neville thought, taken aback. _I never looked at it that way_.

"You are quite welcome,"the voice said warmly. "But that does not make my job any easier. You are equally brave, loyal, and pragmatic, making you a good fit for Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, and while you might not be as intelligent as some Ravenclaws, it's not as if you would be a bad fit there either."

_Not Slytherin_, Neville thought. _I don't want to have to deal with Malfoy on a daily basis_.

"I haven't even sorted Malfoy yet,"the voice laughed. "How do you know that he would go to Slytherin."

_Even if Malfoy isn't there, Crabbe and Goyle are_, Neville pointed out. _They'd probably seek revenge, and I'd like to avoid that._

"Good point,"the voice conceded. "But you could be great. It's all in your head, and Slytherin will lead you on the path to greatness. No? If your sure, better be...GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville took off the hat and was deafened by the loudest applause yet. The Gryffindors were banging their goblets against the table and stamping their feet. Two boys with an uncanny resemblance to Ron were chanting "We got Neville! We got Neville!" Neville walked up the side of the Gryffindor table and, reasoning that he didn't know anyone else in Gryffindor, sat by Hermione.

The Sorting continued. Neville was thrilled to see Harry and Ron sorted into Gryffindor and they soon joined him and Hermione at the table (though Ron gave Hermione a nasty look). When the Sorting was finally complete, Dumbledore stood up, and the Great Hall fell silent once more. He held out his arms wide and smiled at the students, as if he wanted to embrace each and every one of them.

"To those new students, welcome!"he said. "To our veterans, welcome back! Before the start of term feast begins, I would like to say a few words. A few words. Thank you." He sat down and the students applauded.

"Is he mad?"Hermione asked. "I mean, I thought he was an accomplished alchemist and dragonologist."

"So?"Harry asked. "Someone that smart obviously knows the importance of a sense of humor and that a good meal is more important than a speech. Pass me some of that ham, would you?"

Neville looked down in surprise. He hadn't even noticed all of the food that had magically appeared on the table. He then was surprised to notice just how hungry he was. Nerves had stopped him from noticing earlier, but he hadn't eaten anything on the train at all, and he was famished.

As the feast went on, conversation flowed easily between Neville, Harry, and Ron. Hermione tried to get involved occasionally, but though Neville and Harry responded cordially, Ron repeatedly ignored her. Hermione looked hurt at that and eventually ignored the three boys in favor of talking to a third year girl next to her.

After a while, Dumbledore stood up again. The conversation in the Great Hall stopped, and everyone focused their attention on the headmaster. "Well,"he said, smiling, "I hope you enjoyed that excellent meal. Before term begins I have some news, notes, and reminders for you all to keep in mind this term.

"Our caretaker, Mr. Lupin, has asked me to remind you that magic is forbidden in the corridors outside of classes for your safety and the safety of fellow students. Mr. Lupin has also posted a list of dangerous items that are prohibited at Hogwarts on the door to his office, and has asked that you all review the list at your leisure.

"Quidditch tryouts will take place in two weeks. If you are interested in trying out for your house Quidditch team and would like more information, please consult with your house's captain, or with your Head of House.

"First year students should note that the forest on the edge of the grounds is forbidden to all students. And a few of our older students ought to be aware of that as well. Also, for the duration of this year, the third floor corridor on the right side is off-limits to anyone that does not wish to suffer a very painful death."

"He can't be serious,"Neville whispered to Hermione.

"He probably is,"Hermione whispered back. "_Hogwarts, a History_ says that the forest is full of dangerous creatures, so juxtaposing this third floor corridor with it probably means it really is that dangerous."

"Finally, we have a new professor here at Hogwarts,"Dumbledore continued. "As you older students might have noticed, Defense Against the Dark Arts professors here do not tend to have very long tenures here at Hogwarts before they have to move on. Hopefully our newest addition to the Hogwarts staff will decide to make Hogwarts his home. Please assist me in welcoming Professor Quirinus Quirrell."

A thin man in a purple turban stood up and gave a nervous wave. The students and the staff clapped politely for a while, and then Professor Quirrell sat down. He seemed nervous and uncomfortable with the attention everyone had just paid him. Neville sympathized greatly.

"And now,"Dumbledore said, "it is late, and I'm sure that your highest priority right now is resting for your lessons. So, off you go! Good night!"

The Great Hall was a flurry of activity after that. Many of the older students got up and left. "First year Gryffindors,"a fifth year boy with red hair said commandingly. "Follow me please, and I will show you to your dormitories."

"My brother, Percy,"Ron whispered to Neville and Harry. "He's kind of a stuck up git."

Percy led them out of the hall, up several flights of stairs and through a few secret passages behind tapestries and portraits. Neville tried to keep the route straight in his head, but the many turns and steps left him hopelessly lost. He did note, though, that they were going up rather high, and reasoned that they must be in one of the towers.

They came to a stop in front of a portrait of a fat lady in pink with blond hair. "This is the entrance to the Gryffindor common room,"Percy explained.

"Password?"the Fat Lady asked. A few of the Muggle-born first years, Hermione included, jumped in surprise.

"Caput draconis,"Percy replied. The Fat Lady nodded, and the portrait swung open. Percy and the first years climbed through the hole in the wall behind her, and entered a room filled with tables and armchairs next to a roaring fire. "Boys' dormitories are up the stairs to your left,"Percy instructed. "Girls' are up the stairs to your right. I suggest you get some sleep. You're going to have a full day of classes tomorrow."

Neville wasn't about to argue with that; all the food he had eaten had left him quite sleepy. He climbed up the stairs to the left and eventually found a door with a sign reading "First Years" hanging above it. Inside were five four-poster beds, each with a chest of drawers next to it and a trunk lying at its foot. Neville found his trunk and was surprised to see Trevor sitting on his pillow.

"Where have you been all day?"he yawned as he pulled the covers back. "You had me worried." If the toad had the power to answer him, Neville still would not know what he would say, as he fell asleep soon afterward.

**Author's Note: Well, that was a really fast update, wasn't it? I wouldn't get used to this if I were you, school's starting to pick up and I'm gonna be really busy trying to make sure I graduate on time. **

**Anyway, I wasn't sure how I wanted to play the Sorting when I started writing. On one hand, Sorting scenes are necessary in fics like this to establish the status quo and show where all the important players are, and the Sorting Hat can provide an interesting insight into characters that you can't really find anywhere else. On the other hand, going through a list of names and houses can get very boring, and I have absolutely no talent for poetry or song writing (hence the anti-climax with the "song").**

**Don't forget to leave your reviews! Next chapter will be up as soon as possible.**


	3. Chapter 3: A Notty Ambition

"Neville! Wake up!"

"No, thanks, Gran, I don't think raising a manticore is a good idea," Neville mumbled sleepily.

"Neville, we're gonna miss breakfast."

"Wait, why are we stealing Quirrell's turban again?" Neville asked, rolling over.

"This is hopeless." Ron said, having finally stopped shaking Neville.

"Time for desperate measures." Harry agreed. Ron nodded, and the two of them pushed Neville hard. Neville fell off the bed.

"OW!" Neville shouted, springing to his feet. "What was that for?"

"Well," Harry said, looking at his watch. "We missed most of breakfast because we foolishly thought it would be a good idea to try to wake you up so you wouldn't be late. There probably won't be any food left now."

"What?" Neville asked, checking his watch. It was currently 8:50. Their first class started in ten minutes. "We need to go right now!" Neville dressed as fast as he can, falling down while trying to wrestle on a sock. Eventually, the three boys raced out of the common room and down the stairs.

"What's our first class again?" Ron asked.

"Transfiguration," Neville panted. "Any idea where it is?"

"I think it's over here," Harry said, turning right. "Through this door. Time?"

"8:58," Ron said, beaming.

"Brilliant!" Harry said. "We're right on time." Harry tugged on the door. It was locked. Harry struggled with the door angrily.

"What's the holdup?" Ron asked.

"The door...won't...open!" Harry growled, yanking as hard as he could.

"Uh, guys?" Neville said. "I think we're in the wrong place."

"Well, I would imagine so," a calm, amused voice said behind them. The three boys whirled around. Smiling down at them was a man with short brown hair, which was graying in several places, and a matching mustache that Neville recognized as Mr. Lupin, the caretaker that Dumbledore mentioned at the start of term feast. "Otherwise you wouldn't be trying to enter the forbidden corridor."

Neville's face went white. "The f-forbidden corridor?" he stammered. "As in the corridor where you will 'suffer a very painful death'?"

"The very same," Lupin chuckled. "I imagine that you got lost on your way to your lesson?" The three boys nodded. "Well, that's understandable. Hogwarts is a big place after all. I used to get lost all the time. I don't think even Professor Dumbledore has been in every room here."

"We were trying to go to Transfiguration, sir," Harry said.

"Ah, well, you're in luck," Lupin said. "It just so happens that Transfiguration is right over there." He pointed to a door on the other side of the hall. Neville and Ron gave Harry an exasperated look, as if to say, "Are you kidding me?"

"Thank you," Harry said politely, ignoring Neville and Ron. Lupin nodded, and walked away. As soon as Lupin turned away, Harry mimed slashing his finger across his throat at Neville and Ron. Ron in turn responded with a look of mock horror, and Neville chuckled.

"Well, we're already late," Ron said, shrugging. "Let's go."

The three boys walked into the door. Professor McGonagall stopped mid-sentence and gave them a disapproving glare. "Class started five minutes ago gentlemen," she said, shaking her head. "That'll be 1 point taken from Gryffindor each for tardiness."

"But we got lost!" Ron complained angrily. "You can't expect us to know where everything is on our first day!"

"And yet, Weasley," McGonagall replied, "Granger, Brown, Patil, Thomas, and Finnigan all managed to arrive to class on time, even though today was their first day as well. Now take your seats."

The three boys did so (Ron mumbling something that would have cost him even more points if McGonagall had heard him) as McGonagall continued speaking. "As I was saying before Longbottom, Weasley, and Potter decided to join us, Transfiguration is among the most difficult branches of magic you will learn over the course of your magical education. Here you will learn how to restructure an object's matter and reform it into an entirely new object. It is quite complex, both in theory and in practice, but if you apply yourself, in time you will be capable of feats such as this."

She took out her wand and tapped her desk. It morphed into a pot-bellied pig. The class gasped (Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown let out excited squeals; apparently the pig was cute) as McGonagall tapped the pig again and it turned back into her desk. Everyone was eager to get started, but McGonagall reminded them that they would have a long way to go before they would be able to turn furniture into livestock. They spent the next twenty minutes copying complicated notes before being given a matchstick and instructed to turn it into a needle. It was frustratingly difficult, and by the end of the class, all Neville managed to accomplish was making his match the same shape as a needle, while Hermione was the only one that actually succeeded in making a full transformation, earning Gryffindor house five points. Neville made a mental note to thank Hermione for offsetting the loss he incurred on his own house.

For the rest of the week, the Gryffindor first years had several more challenging classes. Charms class was taught by the diminutive Professor Flitwick, who needed to stand on a stack of books to be seen. Flitwick was an excitable man, as he nearly fell off his books when he reached Neville's name during the role call and later started jumping up and down with glee when Neville finally managed to successfully change the color of his desk to pink, the last member of the class to do so (besides Seamus Finnigan, who only managed to make his desk explode).

In sharp contrast to Flitwick's giddiness was Professor Quirrell the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Quirrell stammered through his lecture about the Verdimillious Charm, which could shoot lightning at any aggressors. When asked if they were going to practice the charm, he turned pale and insisted that learning the theory behind the charm was sufficient for today, and that he would consider finding a more appropriate venue for practice. Neville noticed him touch the back of his turban nervously as he said it, and wondered if he was afraid that it might catch fire if they were to practice the charm in the classroom.

Twice a week in the greenhouses outside the castle, the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff first years met for Herbology class. Professor Sprout, a short, plump woman, divided the class into pairs and assigned them to a fire seed bush with the goal of collecting the fire seeds it produced, as they are important potion ingredients. Neville was paired with a Hufflepuff boy named Ernie Macmillan, while Harry was paired with Dean Thomas and Ron, to his dismay, was paired with Hermione.

Ernie was a stout-looking boy with dirty blonde hair. He swaggered over to Neville after hearing his name called and shook his hand heartily with both hands. "Ernest Macmillan," he said by way of introduction. "It is truly an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Neville."

Neville blinked and laughed nervously. It sort of hurt the way Ernie was shaking his hand so forcefully. "Uh, nice to meet you too," he said, glancing nervously at Harry and Dean, who were smirking at him.

"I just wish that we could have met as equals," Ernie said dramatically. "It is just terrible that you are famous because your parents were slain by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Yes, it's terrible," Neville agreed, grimacing, as Harry and Dean were stifling their laughter, "and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't bring it up."

"Oh!" Ernie said, letting go of Neville's hand and putting a hand to his mouth. "I'm terribly sorry. I did not even take your feelings into account! Let us speak no more of it then."

"Good idea," Neville said. "Cause I'm pretty sure everyone else already started getting seeds." Ernie flushed and whirled around. Sure enough, the other students were casting Freezing Spells and snatching seeds. As they were expected to alternate casting the spell, Hermione stepped aside and watched as Ron struggled with the spell when his turn came up.

"You're saying it wrong," she said. "It's GLAY-see-us. The emphasis should go on the Glay sound, not the Us."

"I KNOW that, Hermione," Ron growled, sweat forming on his brow. He jabbed his wand forward. "Glacius!" he shouted. The burning bush froze instantly for half a second, then burst into flames again.

"That was better," Hermione said encouragingly. "You just need-"  
"I just need you to give me some peace and quiet!" Ron shouted.

Neville, meanwhile, was excelling. He noticed that the fire seed bush was particularly vulnerable to the Freezing Spell in certain areas while more resistant in other areas, such as the one that Ron had aimed at. Whenever his turn came up, he aimed for these weak spots and froze the bush for several minutes allowing him and Ernie to collect several fire seeds. When Herbology class ended, Neville and Ernie were the only group that managed to retrieve every single fire seed their bush had produced.

"Excellent, boys, simply excellent," Sprout said, clapping her hands together with joy. "No other group has managed to collect all the seeds on their first attempt in my twenty years of teaching at Hogwarts. Twenty points each to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff!"

Neville left the greenhouse slightly embarrassed, but still flush with pride. After his slow starts with Transfiguration and Charms, he finally found something he was good at! He did not, in his wildest dreams, ever think that he might be the best at something. All through lunch, he grinned stupidly, ignoring Ron complain about Hermione or Harry tease him about Ernie's pompous introduction.

"Well, all that's left is Potions, right?" Harry eventually asked.

"Yeah," Ron grimaced. "And we've got it with the Slytherins."

This brought Neville out of his reverie. "Look, guys," he said seriously, "I know Malfoy's a jerk, but you can't get in another fight."

"Yeah, no problem," Harry said, nodding. "I still have bruises from the last time. I'm in no rush to get some more." Ron nodded as well, touching his black eye and wincing. The three of them stood up and exited the Great Hall, making their way downstairs to the cavernous dungeons. The Slytherins were already there, mingling outside of the classroom. Malfoy didn't notice the three of them arrive, as he talked very loudly with Crabbe and Goyle about his father, the influential member of the Wizengamot.

"Listen to him," Harry said venomously. "He goes on and on about his father, like it makes him better than everyone else."

"Yes, he is quite annoying, isn't he?" a boy said behind Harry. He was a Slytherin, tall and thin, with shoulder-length black hair and beady black eyes. "He just wouldn't shut up last night. He's trying to impress the Slytherins and build up a gang for himself, you see."

"And I'm guessing he didn't impress you?" Neville asked.

"Of course not," the boy snorted. "Idiots like Malfoy who brag about their family reputation have no faith in their own abilities and don't deserve to be followed. Besides," he said grinning, "I like to fancy myself more of a leader than a follower, though so far none of my housemates seem worthy of my cause."

"What cause is that?" Neville asked. Something about this boy was unsettling. He was cool and collected. He had a proud demeanor to him like Malfoy did, but Neville doubted that he would appreciate the comparison.

"I wish to be Minister of Magic," the boy answered simply. "And when I assume that post, I wish to publicly reveal our existence to the Muggles."

"What?!" Ron said incredulously, his jaw dropping. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because," the boy said patiently, though Neville noticed his a vein in his temple twitch, as though he were annoyed that his vision was being questioned, "wizards have nothing to gain by keeping their existence secret. We waste valuable time and resources in keeping ourselves separate, even though Muggle advances in mundane affairs to work around magic have resulted in things we have yet to accomplish. For example, did you know that Muggles have actually walked on the moon?"

"No," Neville and Ron said simultaneously while Harry said "Yes." Neville and Ron flashed him a look, and he shrugged and said, "I have some Muggle relatives. Their history books have pictures. My mom showed me."

"In any case," the Slytherin boy continued, "imagine what we could accomplish we pool our resources with the Muggles. The possibilities are endless."

Ron looked skeptical, but Neville was intrigued. "It sounds like it's worth exploring," he agreed, "but it would be dependent on how the Muggles react, wouldn't it? What if they're hostile?"

"I imagine some will be," the Slytherin boy conceded, "but I think it's a disservice to both wizards and Muggles to maintain this barrier between us, and that the cause of unity is worth the risk. Oh, yes," he added, as if a thought just occurred to him, "my name is Theodore Nott. It is a pleasure to meet you, Neville Longbottom." He held out his hand.

Neville reached for Theodore's hand, but pulled back. He just realized something felt off about this whole thing. "Why are you even talking to us?" he asked. "We're Gryffindors. Aren't we supposed to be enemies?"

Theodore laughed. "Enemies? Bah. Slytherin is not the house of evil, Neville. It is the house of ambition, and, as you are no doubt aware by now, I have big ambitions for the future. If I am to realize them, I would need as many friends, allies, and supporters as possible. Restricting myself to just the Slytherins would be counterproductive, and I see no profit in making an enemy of the Boy Who Lived. It would be disastrous for my future plans."

Harry laughed now. "You're alright, Nott," he said, shaking Theodore's outstretched hand. "Harry Potter. That's Ron." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Ron, who was still looking surprised. "I'm sure he's happy to meet you too, but the idea of astronauts seems to have messed with his head."

"Muggles on the moon?" Ron mumbled. "How is that possible?"

"Charmed," Theodore said smoothly. Just then, the door opened. The students filed into the Potions classroom. "Well, it was a pleasure meeting you Neville, Harry, Ron." He nodded and walked into the classroom. "I do hope we can become friends."

Neville gave Harry a nervous look. Theodore was nice enough, but he seemed too focused on his future plans. The way he looked at Neville was not the way someone looks at a potential friend, as he claimed, but rather as a piece of meat or a tool. Theodore might not have been hostile like Malfoy, but Neville might have feared Theodore even more.

**Author's Note: Three chapters in a week? Inconceivable! Seriously, though, I was channel surfing after the Super Bowl (hell, yeah, Seahawks!), and I saw the Prisoner of Azkaban film on TV and I was inspired to introduce Lupin to Neville a little sooner than I had planned. I started writing, and I just couldn't stop. I was originally planning to include the Potions class in this chapter, but I felt that it would have been a bit anticlimactic after Nott's introduction.**

**Speaking of Nott, Slytherin's representation is probably my least favorite part of Rowling's writing. Everyone is a total jerkass (except Slughorn, maybe), which isn't fair. I'm not gonna be one of THOSE fans that say that Gryffindor is a bunch of bullies and that Slytherin is innocent (they're not), but I figure, if I've got an AU going, I might as well give Slytherin more depth and present a version of ambition (Slytherin's key trait) that isn't necessarily evil.**

**Anyway, hope you liked the chapter. Don't forget to leave your reviews!**


	4. Chapter 4: Potions and Broomsticks

The Potions classroom was quite large, with two rows of long tables meant for four. At the front of the room stood a small chalkboard and a large ornate desk. A store cupboard sat in the far corner of the room. Several small fire pits sat next to the tables.

Standing at the front of the room was the Potions master, Professor Slughorn. He was an old man, short and plump. He was balding, with straw-colored hair and a bushy mustache. He wore very fine robes, and had a warm and friendly grin on his face.

"Come in, come in," he said jovially. "Please, have a seat. Welcome to Potions!" Neville sat down at a table with Harry and Ron. Hermione walked by and looked at Neville's group for a few minutes, before turning away and sitting with Parvati and Lavender. Theodore however, walked over and sat with Neville, saying something to the effect that he would rather not sit with the other Slytherins.

"Now that we're all settled in, let's get started," Slughorn said. "Now then, potion-making is very much unlike other disciplines of magic. There is no wand waving or incantations. The effects are not immediate and spectacular like Charms and Transfiguration, and there is even less margin for error. But with the proper execution, you can brew fame, bottle glory, and even put a stopper in death! Exciting, isn't it?

"Now, let's see if any of you have read your schoolbooks over the summer. Who here can tell me what you would get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up instantly. Slughorn nodded in her direction. "It creates a sleeping potion," she said very quickly, "that is so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death."

"Excellent!" Slughorn said, beaming, "Truly excellent! Let's try another one. Where would I look if I wanted to acquire a bezoar?"

Theodore started to raise his hand, but Hermione's hand went up so quickly that he swore under his breath and put his hand down. Slughorn didn't seem to notice as he chuckled. "You know the answer to this as well?" he asked Hermione.

"A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat which can cure most poisons," she answered. Malfoy mimed talking with his hand, as if all he ever wanted in this world was for Hermione to shut up.

"Absolutely correct," Slughorn said. "And it almost sounds silly to ask, but would you know the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They are the same plant," Hermione answered automatically, "which is also known as aconite."

"Three for three!" Slughorn exclaimed. "Astounding! Take ten points for Gryfffindor. And what is your name young lady?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger..." Slughorn said, crossing his arms and closing his eyes thoughtfully. "Would you, perhaps, be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"I don't think so, Professor," Hermione answered. "I'm Muggle-born, you see."

Slughorn gaped in astonishment for a few minutes, but recovered relatively quickly. "Well, that is simply excellent!" he said. It seemed that he was genuinely surprised to see such knowledge in a Muggle-born. It made Neville wince.

The rest of the class period was devoted to creating a cure for boils. It was difficult work, but Slughorn's encouraging and jovial nature put Neville at ease and helped him keep a clear head. It didn't occur to Neville until later that night, but Slughorn spent a lot more time with Neville, Harry, Hermione, Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini than anyone else in the class. At the end of the class (which was canceled early when Goyle's cauldron exploded and boils covered him and Crabbe), he called these five to his front desk.

"Gentlemen, lady," Slughorn said, "I am organizing a get-together on Halloween with some of Hogwarts best and brightest, and I would love for you all to attend. I'll have a few guests over that attended these parties during their time at Hogwarts, and it'd be a great opportunity to rub elbows with the elite."

Malfoy and Zabini agreed instantly, looking excited. Hermione agreed soon afterward, but she looked uncomfortable and a bit reluctant. Neville and Harry traded looks, shrugged, and agreed. After leaving the Potions room, they found Ron and Theodore waiting for them.

"So, you guys are in the Slug Club now?" Ron asked.

"The what?" Neville asked, tilting his head confusedly.

"That's what Nott called it," he said, jerking his head toward Theodore. "He said that Slughorn likes to befriend students that he thinks will be successful so he can mooch off of them later in life."

"You make it sound like a bad thing," Theodore objected as they started walking outside for their break. "It's more of a symbiotic relationship than a parasitic one. Slughorn might try to call in some favors later in life, but his influence helps his favorites get good jobs to set up for better positions later down the road. My father was actually in the Slug Club during his time at Hogwarts."

"So he enjoyed the benefits of Slughorn's friendship, then?" Neville asked.

"Not exactly," Theodore answered, as they stopped at a tree. "Sadly, my father decided to throw away his potential and join the Death Eaters instead." Theodore flopped down on the ground and laid there in the shade, apparently not noticing the others' shocked faces.

A minute passed in silence. "Aren't you going to join me?" Theodore asked, not opening his eyes. "I thought we were relaxing."

"You're not a Death Eater, right?" Ron asked.

"No. Nor would I ever want to be. It's bad for my future plans."

"Are you serious right now?" Harry said incredulously.

"Oh, yeah, I guess there's also the whole racism thing," Theodore said, shrugging. "That's a given."

Neville didn't want to, but Theodore's deadpan attitude about the whole thing made him laugh. The three Gryffindors sat down with Theodore and spent the rest of the day together. They talked about classes and Quidditch and such, and for a while, the lines between houses were blurred.

A few weeks later, the class that everyone was looking forward to was about to begin. Flying lessons were very highly anticipated by the students. Harry was full of stories about flying with his father the professional Quidditch player. Malfoy was often heard bragging about how his flying skills were superior to everyone else's. Ron told anyone who would listen about how he almost took out a Muggle's kite while flying.

Neville didn't have any of these stories. Gran wouldn't buy him a broom as he "was too unreliable on the ground." It certainly didn't help that he was terrified of heights, ever since his Uncle Algie dangled him out of a window in an attempt to bring out his latent magical power. Even though it worked, it still turned Neville off the idea of flying.

Neville wasn't the only one who was nervous. Hermione was clearly terrified. She was often seen reading _Quidditch Through the Ages _furiously, clearly hoping that the book would give her clear instructions on how to fly. However, as she explained to Neville once during Herbology class when they were paired together, it was like the Muggle skill of driving a car, something that can only be learned through practice, and the idea that the skill could not learned in a book unsettled her.

Finally, the big day arrived. The Gryffindor first years walked down to the Quidditch pitch to see the Slytherins already waiting for them with Madam Hooch the flying instructor. A few teachers, including Professors Quirrell and Flitwick, as well as Mr. Lupin, were also there. Neville figured that they wanted to see how the Boy Who Lived handled a broomstick. _Because nothing says conqueror of the Dark Lord like Quidditch,_ Neville said to himself. Several old broomsticks were lying on the ground. Neville was relieved to see that. At least he wasn't going to be zooming around on one of the new racing brooms. That would be a little too exciting for him.

"Well?" Madam Hooch asked. "What are you waiting for? Hold your right hand over a broom and say 'Up!'"

"Up!" Neville said, with a small quiver in his voice. His broomstick rolled over and ignored him. He looked around nervously. Harry's broom flew up to him on his first try, as did Malfoy's. Theodore and Ron took a few more tries, but eventually managed to get it. Hermione and Dean's wouldn't move at all. "UP!" Neville said, louder and with more force in his voice. The broom flew up and smacked him in the face.

"Having a little trouble, Longbottom?" Malfoy jeered. Neville glared at him, and tried again. This time, he managed to catch the broom as it flew up to meet him.

Once everyone had retrieved their broom, Madam Hooch walked among them correcting their posture as they mounted their brooms. Neville beamed with pride when she complimented his form, saying it was right the way it is without her help, and later snickered when he heard her tell Malfoy he had been doing it wrong for years.

"Now then," Madam Hooch eventually said. "When I blow this whistle, I want you to take off by kicking hard off the ground. You will climb a few feet by pulling up on the broom handle, and then you will land by leaning forward and pushing down. On the count of three. One..."

Neville gripped his handle tighter. He could feel sweat dripping down his brow. His knuckles were white. His teeth were chattering.

"Two..."

Time slowed down. Neville heard Harry chuckle in anticipation. He gulped. The breakfast he had eaten earlier was starting to make it's way back up his throat. They were about to start soon. He didn't want to fly, but he couldn't be left behind. Imagine how everyone would react if the Boy Who Lived froze up on a basic flying lesson! What would Gran say?

"Thr-"

This was it! It was time to fly! Neville was determined not to far behind. So determined, it seemed, that he kicked off before the whistle had even reached Madam Hooch's lips. Before he knew it, he was airborne. He had done it. He was flying. Now if only he didn't puke.

"Mr. Longbottom, I have not yet given the signal," Madam Hooch called.

Oh, no! In his haste to get the flying over with, Neville had started too soon. He had to land. Neville leaned forward a little, but before he could push down on the handle, he sped off straight ahead. Everything became a blur as his heart leapt to his throat. How could an old Shooting Star model go this fast? He was a tree rocketing toward him. He had to stop! He had to stop!

"Mr. Longbottom, come down this instant!"

Neville leaned back instinctively. But in his haste to slow down, he accidentally pulled up on the handle. Now he was climbing. Higher and higher he went. It was hard to breathe.

"Mr. Potter, don't you dare follow him!"

"Madam Hooch, he clearly needs help!"

"That does not give Mr. Potter the right to do as he pleases, Miss Granger!"

Neville wrestled with the broom, trying to get it to stop. If only he could stop, he could find his way back down to solid ground. But it was no use. The broom went every way but down, as if it had a mind of its own. He saw Harry flying up to him, with Madam Hooch in pursuit, but the broom started bucking this way and that, nearly throwing Neville off.

Back on the ground, Theodore walked over to Ron and Hermione. "Look over there," he said softly, nodding toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Standing apart from the other teachers was Lupin, who was looking straight up. His eyes, unblinking, were focused right on Neville's broom, and his mouth was moving quickly.

"What's he doing?" Ron asked.

"He's jinxing the broom!" Hermione whispered, in shock.

"Jinxing the broom?" Ron repeated, looking terrified. "What do we do?"

"Leave it to me," Hermione answered, walking away. She walked as fast as she could without alerting Lupin. She was so focused, she didn't even notice that, though she was able to avoid the other teachers' attention, she bumped into Professor Quirrell. Quirrell stumbled, and Hermione took advantage to dash into the edge of the Forest. Darting from tree to tree, she found her way behind Lupin. Taking out her wand, she muttered "Incendio."

Lupin's robes caught fire. Hermione immediately snuck her way back to Ron and Theodore, not stopping to see Lupin's reaction. Lupin yelped and started stamping out the flames.

At the same time, the broom stopped shaking for a few seconds. Neville was hanging off the broom with one hand, when Harry flew underneath him and yelled: "Let go!"

Neville, silently cursing himself for doing something so stupid, squeezed his eyes shut and obeyed. He fell a few feet before landing on Harry's broom. Neville wrapped his hands around Harry's waist as they dived to the ground. When he felt his feet touch the ground, he finally opened his eyes, and saw Malfoy and the other Slytherins applauding.

"Bravo, Longbottom, bravo!" Malfoy shouted. "I can't imagine anybody else who could take something as simple as flying a broomstick and making it look so difficult! I guess that just shows how great the Boy Who Lived is!"

Neville flushed, and stared down at his feet. He knew his reputation would suffer if he didn't respond, but all that he could think about was how close he was to death.

"Shut up, Malfoy,"Harry snapped as Madam Hooch landed.

"Really!" she said angrily. "Such a display was just unacceptable! Longbottom! Potter! Detention for each of you! And twenty points from Gryffindor!"

Once everyone had calmed down, the flying lesson had ended, and the students started leaving the pitch, Neville fell to his knees and started punching the ground. _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ he yelled at himself. _You ruined everything! Now the whole school is going to think you're a joke and Malfoy thinks you're weak! Because you are! You're weak, Neville Longbottom!_

Someone caught his hand as he wound up for another punch. Neville looked over his shoulder to see that Harry had caught his hand. Ron, Hermione, and Theodore were standing behind him, looking concerned.

"Don't beat yourself up, mate," Harry said softly. "You said you never flew before, right? So what's so crazy about things going a little, well, crazy?"

"I'm not supposed to make mistakes like that," Neville said. He felt tears flow down his face, but he didn't care anymore. "Everyone's expecting me to be great. I'm not supposed to screw up."

Harry let go of Neville's hand. Neville's hand fell down to his side. Harry knelt next to Neville and put his arm around Neville's shoulder. "Everybody makes mistakes, Neville," Harry said gently. "Even Dumbledore, I bet. What's important is how you learn from them."

"Besides," Theodore chimed in, "it looks like things weren't entirely your fault after all."

Harry and Neville looked up. "What do you mean, Nott?" Harry asked.

"Lupin was jinxing Neville's broom," Ron answered.

"Really?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound like something Lupin would do. He was pretty friendly when we bumped into him outside the third floor corridor."

"It's true!" Hermione said earnestly. "I know all about jinxes, I read all about them. You have to maintain eye contact, and Lupin wasn't blinking."

"It might have something to do with the third floor corridor incident you mentioned," Theodore said. "I would imagine that that area would be off limits because they were hiding something, something guarded by dangerous traps or monsters. Maybe Lupin wants it and he thinks that you guys know what he's up to."

Harry still looked skeptical, Neville's mind was racing. Was Theodore right? Was there some treasure hidden in the forbidden corridor? Why would Lupin try to kill him, though? Even if Neville and the others had unwittingly thwarted his first attempt to get the treasure, what would he have to gain by killing him? Was Lupin a Death Eater, wanting revenge for You-Know-Who's downfall?

**Author's Note: Phew! This was a tough chapter to write. I had a couple of ideas about where I wanted things to go from here, but I needed a way to get there. I originally wanted to try to reimagine the midnight duel, but my version of Malfoy has no particular grudge against Harry. I wrote a couple of scenarios where Malfoy challenged Neville or Theodore, but it felt out of character for either of them to accept, so I dropped the idea.**

**Speaking of which, I'm starting to get afraid of using Theodore too much. I noticed that there's a danger of him taking over the story, and he's a bit too shrewd for his own good. I don't think it has gotten out of control yet, and I don't plan on writing him out of the story yet, but the danger is there. Hopefully being aware of it will help me deal with it.**

**As always, don't forget to leave your reviews! The feedback really is a huge help.**


	5. Chapter 5: Halloween

Halloween was just around the corner when Neville and Harry received owls one morning. Each of them carried a letter that was sealed with the Hogwarts logo. Neville set aside his eggs and opened the letter with shaky hands.

"Your detention will be tonight at 8 PM," the letter read. "Please meet Mr. Lupin in the trophy room at that time. Failure to attend will result in expulsion. Sincerely, Professor McGonagall."

"Wassit thay?" Ron asked through a mouthful of bacon.

"It's the details of our detention," Neville answered. "We gotta meet Lupin in the trophy room"

Ron's eyes widened. "You can't go," he said, seriously. "He tried to kill you once, and that was with a whole bunch of witnesses. You can't let yourself be alone with him."

"Relax, Ron, he's not going to be alone," Harry said, looking bored. "I got detention too, remember?"

"And what difference would that make?" Hermione asked, cutting her sausages and not looking up. "I don't think any plans Lupin might have to hurt an eleven-year-old will be stopped by a second eleven-year-old, do you?"

"You guys are paranoid," Harry said. "I'm telling you, there's no way that Lupin is trying to kill Neville."

"He was jinxing the broom!" Hermione whispered angrily.

"Uh-huh," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Uh, Hermione?" Neville said, shooting a quick glance at Harry. "This might sound strange, but did you dye your eyebrows blue this morning?"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione said, picking up a spoon to look in. "Of course I didn – HARRY POTTER!"

That night, Neville and Harry walked into the trophy room to find Lupin already waiting for them. Two buckets full of soapy water were sitting on the ground next to him. Lupin was taking a swig from a flask when he quickly stowed it in his pocket as the two boys walked through the door.

"Ah, Harry, Neville," he said, smiling warmly, "so good to see you again. I just wish it could have been under more favorable circumstances"

"It's okay, Remus," Harry said, grinning. "I could think of worse things to do with my time than hang out with you."

"Remus?" Neville asked.

"Harry, I thought we agreed to keep the nature of our relationship secret." Lupin said.

"Relationship?" Neville echoed. Then an idea struck him. He gasped. "Harry, are you – I mean, I never would have thought – not that I care, but – I mean, he's so old - are you?"

"Relax, Neville," Harry chuckled. "Remus is just a friend of my dad's."

"And I thought it would be inappropriate for me to appear to be more favorable to any student, so I thought it would be best for us to pretend to not know each other," Lupin added.

"Really, though, Remus," Harry said, shrugging. "It doesn't matter."

"Nevertheless, Harry, I insist that we keep everything between us."

Neville looked at Harry, then at Lupin, then back at Harry. Harry and Lupin were friends? They knew each other before term began? That would explain why Harry didn't believe that Lupin was a Death Eater. And yet, Neville couldn't shake the feeling that Lupin and Harry were still hiding something.

"Anyway, enough chit chat, let's get started." Lupin said, clapping his hands together. "There are some shields in here that haven't seen polishing in years, and you boys are just the right fit for the job. No magic, please! Chop chop!"

Neville immediately started scrubbing his first shield, awarded to someone named Tom Riddle fifty years ago for special services to the school, whatever that was supposed to mean. He heard Harry humming to himself behind him, working on his on shield. Lupin was busy sweeping the floor, chatting with Harry about classes and his parents.

"Oh, Neville, I've been meaning to ask," Lupin said, as Neville moved on to his seventh shield. How many damn awards did the school need to give out anyway? "I saw your flying lesson, and I was wondering, are you unharmed?"

Neville turned and looked at Lupin. The concern on his face looked genuine, but Ron, Hermione, and Theodore's words all echoed in the back of his head. _"He was jinxing the broom." "Maybe he thinks you guys knows what he's up to."_ "I'm fine, thanks," Neville said, trying to keep his face stoic.

"Glad to hear it," Lupin said, beaming. "You looked like you had a rough time, but nerves will do that, after all. I'm sure before long, you'll be flying circles around everyone. Well, except maybe Harry here." he said, pointing over his shoulder at Harry, who seemed lost in his polishing. "I've seen him fly circles around pretty much anyone that wasn't his father. Why, if first years were allowed to have broomsticks, I'm sure he'd be on the House Quidditch Team by now."

"Yeah, he's pretty good I guess," Neville said, shrugging. "I couldn't really tell, on account of hanging on for dear life on a broom that felt like it was trying to throw me off."

Lupin laughed. "Of course, how rude of me," he said. "I do apologize." Neville shrugged, turning back to his shield. "So, Harry, I understand you were invited to Professor Slughorn's Halloween party," he said, turning to face Harry.

"That's right," Harry said, setting aside his shield. "Neville, too. That's the last of them by the way," he added pointing to the pile of freshly polished shields next to him.

"Excellent," Lupin said. "You know, Slughorn was teaching Potions back when your parents and I were going to Hogwarts."

"Yeah, Mom said something to that effect," Harry said. "Something about how he keeps trying to get her and Dad to send him Cannons tickets. Dad said he could just buy his own."

"Yes, well," Lupin said, shaking his head, "James did take it rather personally when Horace didn't invite him to any parties. Though dating your mother in our seventh year did change that, I guess he just never cared for him. Anyway, are you planning on attending Professor Slughorn's party."

"Kinda have to," Neville said, setting aside his last shield and standing up. "We both said we were gonna be there. Though he did kind of put us on the spot, didn't he, Harry?"

"Little bit, yeah," Harry agreed. "But I just agreed cause I couldn't think of a reason not to."

"Well, you both will be missed at the feast," Lupin said, picking up all of the shields and returning them to their stands. "But do be sure to keep as much brown off your nose as possible."

Halloween arrived a few days later. Neville, Harry, and Hermione left the common room at seven ("Oh, don't mind me," Ron said. "I'll just go the feast by myself. I'd hate to intrude on the elite.") and made their way down to Slughorn's office in the dungeons. The room was brightly lit and the trio heard music being played as they approached the open door.

"Are those bagpipes with a guitar?" Hermione asked, looking baffled. "How does that even work?"

"It's gotta be the Weird Sisters," Neville answered. "Not a real fan of them personally, but they're pretty popular on the WWN."

"Ah, Neville, my boy!" Slughorn said, stepping outside and wrapping his arm around Neville's shoulders. "Glad to see you could make it! And Harry and Hermione, too! Excellent! There are so many people here you simply have to meet!"

"Uh, Professor -"

"Come along, come along!" Slughorn said, ignoring Neville's half-formed sentence and dragging Neville into the room. Harry snickered and turned to Hermione. "This is totally worth missing the feast to see Neville get dragged around like a rag doll," he said to her as they followed Neville and Slughorn inside.

Slughorn dragged Neville across the room to a burly dark woman with brown hair wearing purple robes. "Neville, my boy, this," he said cheerfully, "is Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Gwenog, meet Neville Longbottom!"

"Pleasure," Gwenog said, looking disinterested. She looked over Neville, eyes lingering on the scar. Neville gagged as Slughorn involuntarily tightened his grip around his neck. "I thought you would be taller."

_Gee, I'm sorry to disappoint, lady,_ Neville thought. He tried to say something but all that came out was a squeak.

"Oh, Gwenog, he's still young!" Slughorn chortled, apparently not noticing Neville's plight. "I'm sure he'll grow to a height rivaling a titan!"

Gwenog smirked. "I'm not sure how much growing he'll be doing if you don't let him go soon, Horace," she said, clearly holding back laughter. "His face is starting to turn blue."

Slughorn paled and looked at Neville. He gave out a little gasp and let go of Neville. Neville stumbled as he massaged his throat and gasped for air. "Dreadfully sorry about that, Neville, m'boy. I can assure you that choking you was not my intention. I would hate to be remembered as the one who killed the man who killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"That's...okay..." Neville gasped, as he silently swore to never attend a Slughorn party again.

"Glad to hear it!" Slughorn said, clapping his hands together. "Well, then, let's not let this misfortune get in the way of our fun! Gwenog, you must tell Neville about the championship game versus the Cannons last season."

And so, Gwenog launched into a boring story about what must have been an exciting match for those actually interested in Quidditch. Neville, however, found Quidditch uninteresting unless it was happening directly in front of him, and as such ignored Gwenog and started wondering why there was no spell to send images of Quidditch games to paying fans that could not see the game live instead of just broadcasting a play-by-play on the wireless. As the two adults droned on and on, Neville looked past them and saw Harry and Hermione, standing at a refreshments table. Neville gave Slughorn a quick glance – he was busy telling a story about how he tried to play Quidditch as a boy – and slipped away, almost running away from people he found even more boring than Binns.

"Oh, hey, Neville," Harry said in a nonchalant tone, though he was clearly just finished laughing at his predicament. "Enjoying the party?"

"Oh, yes, immensely," Neville shot back. "I'm so glad I'm not at that awesome Halloween feast that's going on right now. Nothing like being paraded around like a trophy."

"So he really is just trying to build a network for himself?" Hermione asked while Harry snickered.

"Yep. He thinks we're all gonna be super rich and famous later and he wants to milk us for favors," Neville answered, looking over his shoulder back at Slughorn. Malfoy and Zabini were talking with him and Gwenog, their noses looking exceptionally brown. "You think we could slip out and go to the feast?"

"Well, I bet Hermione and I could," Harry said, "but Slughorn's gonna be keeping a close eye on you. You're the whole reason he's throwing this party."

Neville groaned. Of course Slughorn would want him to stay at the party more than anyone else. He was the Boy Who Lived. It didn't matter that he didn't do anything to become famous or that he wasn't particularly good at magic (or flying, for that matter). People expected him to do great things, so they naturally were going to treat him like he already did those great things.

"I would give anything to get out of this," he muttered when there was a loud boom in the hallway outside. The band instantly stopped playing and everyone looked around. Neville (silently regretting his wish) ran to the door with Harry and Hermione behind him. He wrenched it open, looked into the hall, and swore under his breath.

Lumbering towards them, wearing thin clothes and dragging a club the size of a tree, was a mountain troll. It was at least twelve feet tall, with elephant gray skin and a particularly stupid look on his face. Fortunately, the troll seemed to have yet to notice Neville, so he backed into the room and quickly but quietly closed the door.

"What's going on, Neville?" Hermione whispered, looking about as sick as Neville felt.

"It's a troll," Neville answered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "There's a troll in the hallway."

The panic was instantaneous. The party guests were screaming, talking all at once and running for the door that connected Slughorn's office to the Potions classroom. Furniture was knocked over, food was sent flying, and Neville saw that one of the Weird Sisters had dropped his guitar in the confusion, and that it had been trampled in everyone's haste to leave. Hermione grabbed Neville and Harry's hand and started dragging them to the door, where Slughorn was trying in vain to calm everyone down.

"Hermione, stop!" Harry protested. Neville looked at Harry like he had grown a second head. Why would he want to stop when a troll was coming?

"We need to get out of here!" Hermione said wildly.

"And get trampled?" Harry shot back. "We can't go that way!"

"Well, what do you suggest we do?!" Hermione cried shrilly.

"I don't know, okay? Just let me think!"

"Oh, sure, take your time! I'm sure that the troll won't get us."

Right on cue, the wall behind Hermione was destroyed by the troll's club. The three of them ran away as the club fell down towards them. The sheer size of the club forced them to scatter, and each of them were now on a different side of the club, with Hermione directly in front of it. Neville looked around wildly. Somehow, they were the only ones in the office. Neville realized that in the confusion, Slughorn must not have realized that they were being left behind as he was leading the others to safety. Swell.

The troll advanced toward Hermione menacingly. She let out a small squeak and backed away, tripping over her robes and landing on her bottom. She had literally been backed into a corner. The troll lifted its club...

"Oy!" Neville shouted, throwing a heavy book at the troll's head. It connected, but the troll seemed more annoyed by the sound than the book. It turned, confused, and saw Neville pointing his wand at the troll's feet. "G-GLACIUS!" he shouted as the troll started walking towards him, licking its lips. A white beam shot from his wand hitting the floor immediately in front of the troll. The troll took a step on the floor just as it froze into a sheet of ice and slipped, falling on its side.

"Nice one, Neville!" Harry shouted, taking out his own wand. The troll started trying to get to its feet. "No you don't! FLIPENDO!" Blue sparks shot from Harry's wand as his Knockback Jinx hit the troll squarely in the shoulder. The troll's hide was too thick though, and it rebounded, hitting Harry in the chest and sending him flying.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, running toward him. The troll was distracted (or perhaps annoyed) by the noise, swinging its club around and barely missing Hermione, blocking her path to Harry. She pointed her wand at the club. "AVIFORS!" she shouted. There was a flash of electric blue light, and the club transformed into a flock of blue birds. Hermione pointed her wand at the troll's face, and the birds flew up to it and started pecking and clawing at its eyes. The troll stumbled backward, roaring in pain and swinging its arm. It swatted the birds out of the sky, killing them almost instantly.

The troll's club was destroyed, but it was still very dangerous. It let out a roar and ran toward Hermione, winding up for a punch. Neville and Harry shot every spell they knew (which admittedly, wasn't that many) at it, but they bounced off the troll's skin and it ignored them, deciding that it wanted to kill Hermione first.

Harry sprinted at the troll and did one of the bravest and stupidest things Neville had ever seen. He jumped on the troll, wrapping his arms around its neck. The troll would not have noticed the miniscule extra weight of an eleven-year-old boy on its shoulders if it weren't for Harry's wand, which he accidentally stuck up the troll's nose. Even for a mountain troll with seemingly impervious skin, having a long, thin piece of wood shoved up your nose hurts a great deal. The troll roared and started clawing at Harry, who was holding on for dear life.

Neville knew that Harry couldn't hold on for much longer. He looked to Hermione, who was muttering a litany of possible spells under her breath, considering each but denying them all, as she decided that they either wouldn't work or they would potentially hurt Harry. Neville suddenly got an idea and decided to do something brave and stupid himself, as he ran to the troll's legs and yanked its pants down.

The troll seemed to notice that something strange was happening around its legs and looked down in confusion, abandoning its quest to kill Harry for a moment. Neville ran around it and yelled "Let go!" It was a mark of how much Harry trusted Neville that he did not question him, letting go of his wand and dropping to the floor very quickly. Unfortunately, Neville didn't stop to think about how getting Harry off the troll (and out of harm's way for his plan) put Harry in harm's way as he was falling twelve feet.

Luckily, Hermione noticed Harry's plight, and shouted "SPONGIFY!" The floor that Harry fell on became soft and bouncy instead of hard stone, allowing Harry to land safely. Content that Harry was safe, Neville pointed his wand at the troll and said "WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"

The troll was raised into the air as Neville grunted with exertion. This was much harder than levitating a feather was in Charms class. Neville lifted the troll a few feet higher, until it was hovering parallel to the ground fifteen feet up.

"What are you doing?" Harry panted.

"The only thing heavy enough to hurt it," Neville grunted back, "is itself!" Neville then lowered his wand. The troll plummeted to the ground, shaking the ground upon impact. Neville looked at his handiwork. It had landed on its back, forming a crater underneath its massive body. It wasn't moving.

A minute passed. "Is it dead?" Hermione asked softly, gasping for breath.

"I don't think so," Neville said. "I think it's knocked out."

Harry walked up to the troll and yanked his wand out of its nose. "Ugh, troll bogies," he said, making a face. He wiped the wand on the troll's shirt as the trio heard running footsteps toward them. They turned to the hole where the door used to be and saw Professors McGonagall, Slughorn, and Quirrell running in before coming to a sudden halt upon seeing the three exhausted children standing next to an unconscious mountain troll. Quirrell's face went white as he clutched his heart and made his way to Slughorn's office chair, which he fell into, trying to keep his breath under control. Slughorn's jaw dropped as he surveyed the damage to his office. Neville thought he heard a small whine escape the Potion Master's lips.

"What on earth?" McGonagall asked, clearly flabbergasted. "Longbottom, Potter, Granger. What happened here?"

"We were here for Professor Slughorn's party," Neville explained. "I saw the troll in the hallway and warned everyone. There was a panic as Professor Slughorn started to evacuate the room, so we hung back because we didn't want to get trampled. We were about to leave when the troll knocked down the wall."

"We didn't see Professor Slughorn," Harry chimed in, "and we tried to run, but it separated us and Hermione was backed into a corner. We didn't want to leave her behind so we fought back. We were fighting a losing battle until Neville had the brilliant idea to levitate it into the air and drop it onto the ground. That knocked it out and you showed up right after."

"Well," McGonagall said in astonishment, "choosing to fight a mountain troll with only a few months of magical training was a very foolhardy thing to do. Nevertheless, it seems like you had exhausted all your other options and your victory was impressive. As such, I will award five points each to Gryffindor house. Now get to your common room, you three. The Halloween feast is being held there now due to the troll, and I'm sure you are hungry after your ordeal." The trio agreed and thanked her. When they returned to the common room, they eventually relented to their classmates' pestering questions and related the story of their adventure. And so, by the end of the night, Neville Longbottom was already becoming even more of a legend at Hogwarts.

**Author's Note: So a couple of reviewers asked me why Harry and Lupin were acting like they didn't know each other earlier. To which I have to say: "Oops!" That was just a big old mistake on my part. I wasn't planning on actually writing out the detention scene, but I decided a hasty retcon was in order. If the explanation sounds weak to you, that's probably because it is. Sorry!**

**The fight with the troll was a lot of fun to write. I had a blast going on the Harry Potter wiki and looking at different spells that are taught to first years in the books and side materials (video games mostly, but some information I suspect was pulled from Pottermore and the old trading card game. Anyone else ever play that? It was pretty fun in a confusing Magic the Gathering knockoff sort of way). Anyway, I've never written a magic action scene before (my previous works usually involved swords or guns), and I hope I did a good job. Please review and give me feedback! If I need feedback on anything, it's the action scenes, since I plan to have more as the story goes on.**


	6. Chapter 6: The Grey Lady

If Neville learned anything in the month of November, it was that word traveled quickly in Hogwarts. He only remembered explaining what happened on Halloween to Ron once, and by the time he walked downstairs to breakfast the next day, everyone in Gryffindor tower knew that he had defeated a troll. It only took a few more days after that until everyone in Hogwarts had heard about it.

Not that they got any of the details right, though. The majority of students apparently decided that Neville fought the troll single-handed, either omitting Hermione from the story or reducing her to the role of a distressed damsel (For some reason, the idea of Neville rescuing a damsel-Hermione was very popular with most girls he heard tell the story). Harry wasn't mentioned at all in the retellings Neville overheard. Neither Harry nor Hermione were happy with this distortion of the facts, but while Hermione seemed content to ignore it and focus on her studies, Harry was outraged, and went out of his way to correct anyone who would listen about the true facts of the story (though Neville noticed that Harry's version left out the part where he was knocked backward by his own jinx).

A few weeks after Halloween, Theodore approached Neville and his friends at the Gryffindor table. He was holding a newspaper. "Harry," he said, "I would like to offer my congratulations."

Harry blinked, taken aback. "Good morning to you too, Nott," he chuckled. "Thanks. Glad to see someone believes that I fought the troll, too."

Theodore shook his head and wagged his finger knowingly. "This isn't about the troll," he explained. "This is about your godfather. He's in the news."

"Really?" Neville said, taking the paper from Theodore. It was from a publication called _The Daily Prophet_. Neville remembered that Gran had a subscription to this paper as well, though she didn't speak of them too highly. The front page showed the famous Aurors Sirius Black and Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody standing side by side in front of Gringotts bank. The headline read "**Gringotts Break-In Foiled! Bellatrix Lestrange Captured!"** "Lestrange..." Neville whispered. The name was familiar. Harry and Hermione crowded around him to read the story (Ron was much more interested in his pancakes).

"_Notorious Death Eater Bellatrix Lestrange was arrested at Gringott's Wizard Bank yesterday. Attempting to break into her family vault for money to help fund her life on the run, Lestrange was detected by the bank security as she tried to exit her vault and fought a pitched battle with the Gringotts goblins, killing seven and injuring thirteen more. The fighting spilled out into the street where Aurors Alastor Moody and Sirius Black, who were in Diagon Alley for an unrelated investigation, joined the fight and subdued her. She was then arrested for breaking and entering, bank robbery, murder, and assault._

_ "Lestrange's attempted break-in marks the second time Gringotts security has been compromised this year. The _Daily Prophet _reported a break-in last July that the Gringotts goblins still refuse to comment on, save for one spokesgoblin saying that nothing was stolen, as the vault in question had already been emptied earlier that same day._

_ "'It is no exaggeration to say that an attack on Gringotts is an attack on all of magical Britain,' says Wizengamot Representative Lucius Malfoy. 'For our premier money-lending institution to have its security breached twice in the same year brings the security of our gold into question. While I have the utmost confidence in the ability of our goblin brothers, I will be conducting an investigation and consider having wizards more directly involved in the oversight of Gringotts.' _

_ "Gringotts Bank and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were not available for comment."_

"Sirius Black is your godfather, right?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered, beaming. "This is excellent! Lestrange was one of the Death Eaters he really wanted to catch himself."

"Oh? What makes her so special?" Theodore asked.

"Lestrange is Sirius's cousin." Harry explained, standing up. "He views her and his brother Regulus as his responsibility."

"His brother?!" Ron gasped.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "He threw in with the Death Eaters early in the war. But then he disappeared. Nobody's seen him in fifteen years."

"Maybe he's dead," Theodore suggested.

"That's what Sirius thinks, too. But you'd think they'd find a body." Harry stood up and handed the paper back to Theodore. "Thanks for this, Nott. We gotta get going, though, we got Transfiguration soon." Theodore nodded and turned around.

"Wait a second," Neville said softly. Theodore stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Can I borrow that paper?" Theodore shrugged and handed it to him, and then waved and walked away.

"What do you want the paper for, Neville?" Ron asked, picking up his bag. The foursome walked out of the Great Hall as Neville answered.

"Something in that article's bothering me. It said that there was a break-in last July."

"But the vault was empty," Harry mused. "It was emptied a few hours before the thief arrived."

"That's what's so weird about it," Neville said. "I mean, why do you keep things in a bank? To keep them safe, right? So, then, say Gringotts suddenly isn't safe anymore. The logical thing to do is to empty your vault as soon as possible."

"Right, so what's the problem?" Ron asked.

"The problem is that that's not what happened, Ron," Hermione gasped. Neville nodded. It seemed that she figured out what he was trying to say.

"Exactly," Neville added. "The break-in happened after the vault was emptied. This was the first successful break-in in the history of Gringotts. And yet, the thief had nothing to show for it. Why? Why would the vault already be emptied? What was he after?"

"There's no way of knowing," Hermione said, a resigned look on her face. "Maybe it was just lucky that the owner of the vault wanted to make a withdrawal. But emptying an entire vault full of gold is suspicious in and of itself. I would imagine that there would be regulations against that."

"Maybe it wasn't gold," Harry suggested. "You can keep other things in a vault too. I mean, I remember bumping into Hagrid outside of Gringotts on my birthday and he was carrying a small package that was being kept in the bank for safekeeping."

Neville came to a stop. The other three noticed and stopped in front of him, turning back to him. They were at the top of a staircase on the third floor. He saw Lupin and Quirrell talking outside the Transfiguration classroom. "Are you sure, Harry?" he whispered. "Are you sure Hagrid took something out of Gringotts that day?"

Harry exchanged bemused glances with Ron. "Yeah, why?"

"And your birthday's in July, right?"

"Yes. Where are you going with this?"

Neville looked past Harry and Ron at Lupin and Quirrell. Lupin had the same polite smile he always wore when talking to Neville, and Quirrell looked even more nervous than ever. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he noticed that both of them were surreptitiously glancing at the door to the forbidden corridor every now and then. Neville remembered how Lupin talked to them outside that very door on the first day of classes. He remembered how Hermione insisted that Lupin was jinxing his broomstick at Flying class, and Theodore's possible explanation as to why. An idea was forming in his head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be right about it.

"Oi, Neville!" Ron said, poking Neville in the forehead. Neville stumbled backward, nearly falling down the stairs.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Neville growled.

"Sorry," Ron said, looking sheepish. "You were staring out into space. I got worried."

Neville was about to retort when Hermione stepped between them. "It doesn't matter. What were you thinking, Neville?"

"Huh?" Neville grunted. He had lost track of his theory after nearly falling. "Oh, right! I was thinking: maybe Hagrid's vault was the one the robber was after last July!"

"Come off it," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Hagrid doesn't have anything valuable. He lives in a shack."

"We already know the robber wasn't after money," Neville argued. "If it were only money he were after, he would have tried other vaults before leaving. No, he was after something specific. Hagrid picked up that package at around the same time, so it makes sense that that might have been what he was after."

"So, what is it, then?" Ron asked, looking excited.

"I don't know," Neville admitted, "but I think I know where it is. The forbidden corridor."

"So you mean you believe Theodore's theory?" Hermione asked. "That Dumbledore is hiding some kind of treasure in there and that's why it's forbidden?"

"It makes sense," Neville said.

"No, it doesn't," Hermione argued. "The only facts behind your argument are that an empty vault was broken into, Hagrid has a vault in Gringotts, and that there is a forbidden corridor. Everything else is just a guess."

"Hermione's right," Harry said. "It's an interesting idea, but that's all it is. Now come on, we need to go to class." He walked into the classroom. Hermione and Ron followed him, still arguing about whether Neville's theory was true. Neville stayed behind and looked at Lupin and Quirrell. It looked like their conversation was over, and Lupin was limping away. Quirrell was leaning against the door to the forbidden corridor, panting and shaking. Neville wondered if he should have told them the rest of his theory: namely, that Lupin wanted whatever was in the forbidden chamber, and that the troll was a diversion for him to try to get it. The fact that Lupin was limping made Neville think that the attempt was a failure. If so, then the package was safe, but for how long?

The break-in at Gringotts and the forbidden corridor never left Neville's mind after that morning. Harry and Hermione quickly grew tired of discussing it, dismissing Neville's theory as nonsense. Ron thought that Neville was on to something, though, and they spent many fruitless hours trying to speculate as to what was hidden in the forbidden chamber. When Neville told Theodore his theory that night, he didn't get a straight answer as to whether or not Theodore believed him.

"It's certainly plausible," he had said, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, "but it's just as possible as an entirely separate vault being broken into or that the forbidden chamber is hiding something else. However, your theory does fit the facts as we know them. I can't really comment one way or the other without more information."

"But where would we get more information?" Neville had asked. "I'm pretty sure only the teachers would know what's hidden in the forbidden chamber."

Theodore had opened one of his eyes and given Neville a smirk. "Well, if it's information you need, there is someone you could ask. They say that if you need to know anything about Hogwarts, she's the one to ask."

Which is what led Neville and Theodore to the library. Theodore had said that the woman he had in mind only spoke to a select few, and Robert Hilliard was one of them. After asking around for a few days, the two boys learned that Hilliard spent a great deal of time in the library. They found him hunched over a table with six books open and several rolls of parchment open, scribbling furiously. He was a fifth-year prefect, though he was shorter than Neville expected (only slightly taller than Ron was), and quite heavy. He wore a pair of horn rimmed glasses over his brown eyes, and had messy shoulder-length black hair. It seemed to Neville like Hilliard hadn't washed or groomed himself in days.

"Got a lot of homework?" Theodore asked, trying to wear a friendly smile. It looked painful.

"No," Hilliard said, without looking up. "I finished that hours ago. This is my own independent research."

"Research on what?" Neville asked, silently betting he wouldn't understand the answer.

"The effects of Transfiguration on an organism's internal structures with regards to the brain and whether or not it is possible to elevate a lesser organism to a sapient status," Hilliard said quickly. Neville was reminded of Hermione.

"Incredible," Theodore gasped. "I imagine that this sort of research is only in its theoretical stage at this point."

"Indeed. So far, I have been reading theoretical Transfiguration papers and studies on the philosophy of sapience. Progress is pretty slow, though."

"Well, nobody has tried this before, right?" Neville asked, trying to keep up with the conversation. How the heck did Theodore understand any of this? "It makes sense that you wouldn't find that much information about it in books."

Hilliard stopped working and looked up for the first time. He gave Neville a surpised, amused look. "I suppose you're right, Longbottom," he said, looking right at the scar. "Though I still have a lot of foundational research to do before I get to that stage.

"Anyway, I doubt you're here to discuss my research, especially since only one of you seems to understand it." _Hurtful, but accurate_, Neville thought. "Let me guess, you want an introduction."

"He wants an introduction," Theodore said pointing at Neville. "I was hoping for employment. After all, the Grey Lady is a valuable ally to have."

"That's quite presumptuous of you," Hilliard said softly, narrowing his eyes. "Why would the Grey Lady want to associate with someone like you?" Neville gulped.

"By someone like me, do you mean a Slytherin?" Theodore asked, leaning over the table to stare at Hilliard. "While I admit that my house has a bad reputation, and that it is for the most part well deserved, there is no reason to assume that I am an enemy."

"It's no reason to assume you're a friend, either," Hilliard retorted. They were both speaking politely, but Neville sensed hostility from both of them.

"Hang on," he jumped in. "There's no need to fight. Theodore means no harm. He would never hurt anyone. Something about it damaging his reputation later on." Theodore gave him a weak smile.

"I agree," a soft, feminine voice said. Neville and Theodore looked around, but they didn't see anyone. "Robert, I thank you for your concern, but I've already decided that these two are trustworthy."

"Well, if you're sure, Miss Helena," Hilliard said, looking down at his work. "In that case, I'll leave it to you."

"Uh...Who are you talking to?" Neville asked, looking around. "I don't see anybody."

"Look up," Miss Helena said. Neville and Theodore looked up to see a ghost. Neville might have called her pretty, with her waist-length blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, but those eyes looked haughty and proud. Neville realized that she was one of the ghosts that flew above the Great Hall during the start of term feast. "A pleasure to meet you, Neville Longbottom and Theodore Nott," she said, floating down to their level. "I am Helena, the Grey Lady. I understand you have something to ask me."

"A few, actually," Neville answered. "Firstly, why build an information network in Hogwarts in the first place?"

"A good question," Helena said. "About fifty years ago, there was an incident where someone was attacking students. Nobody knew who it was for a whole year, and it escalated to the point where they found a girl dead in a bathroom. I was afraid something like that might happen again, so I started making contacts among the students and faculty. Now, if something dangerous might happen, I can alert the Headmaster to any danger."

"I see," Neville said. "So, do you know what's hidden in the forbidden chamber?"

"I do," Helena answered. "But I won't tell you unless you do a job for me. A favor for a favor. What do you say?"

"What is it?" Neville asked. His palms started sweating. If she wanted him to spy on one of his friends, he wasn't sure if he could do that.

"It's simple, really. Albus Dumbledore is bringing a magical artifact to the school for maintenance during Christmas break. It will be stored in an unused classroom on the fifth floor near the Ancient Runes classroom. I need you to find out what it is and what it does."

"That's it?" Neville asked.

"That's it," Helena repeated, holding out her ghostly hand. "Information for information. What do you say?"

"I'll do it," Theodore said.

"Not you," Helena retorted. "I have a different job for you. This is up to Neville."

Neville thought hard, then smiled. He reached out to shake Helena's hand and went right through it.

"Well," Helena laughed. "I'll take that as a yes."

**Author's Note: How long has it been since I updated this? Too long! I wasn't entirely sure how to proceed until I was reading some Bleach and I remembered an interview where Tite Kubo admitted that whenever he was stuck, he would invent a new character. While I think that it might not be a good idea to do that all the time, it did give me the idea for the Hilliard and the Grey Lady. Anyway, please review, and I'll try to write the next chapter faster.**


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